THE GREATEST
by May May Meow
Summary: He was, undoubtedly, the greatest. To the public that was. But he knew there was someone better and he also knew he was the only one who cared about that detail. FEMshanksxMihawk


THE GREATEST

_once part of my drabble collection, but then i realzied. That those oneshots don't belong in a drabble collection. If you are interested, that drabbel collection is called 'TWO' and you can find it via my profile. All FEMshanksxmihawk, because that pairin doesn't get enough love lately!_

_when it was still in the drabbles Arjenka prompted this topic. thanks again :)_

* * *

'You missed one AGAIN... what is your excuse this time?'

Shanks' head shot up from the card game she was currently engaged in.

'Hi Hawkeye, it's been a while. How are you?' She rose and hugged him still grinning. Mihawk huffed at this close contact, not particularly enjoying it. So he picked her arms from his frame.

'Enough with the cuddling, am I a pet or something?'

Shanks looked at him. From the tight lips he knew she was fighting the giggles. Then she couldn't hold them in any longer and they burst out.

'Dhahahahaha... imagine... little kitty-hawky! Say grrrrr!' To stress her point, Shanks extended a hand curled up like a paw.

Mihawk pinched the back of his nose. Why again was he here? Why again was this woman, this infuriating and careless woman the most precious person in his life? Well, there weren't any other he sought out, and despite what she looked like, she was a more than capable fighter. He must have committed some kind of terrible crime though, that fate had paired him with someone that indulged in drinking, was late, was getting easily distracted and was better than him.

He knew he should be grateful that he could train with someone that could teach him too, but Shanks was never going all out on him when they practiced. She had done so however in the first tournament they had both participated in. Mihawk was taking part in every single one he could reach, and won every single one. Except that is when Shanks was joining. She had done so only four times so far thus her fame was underwhelming for what she was capable of while Mihawk collected trophies like she was collecting shells on the shore.

And it irked him to no end. Because he knew he didn't deserve any of these titles. He might have gotten a lucky win against her from time to time but since she hardly gave him the chance to do so it was all guessing on his side.

'If you don't show up to the next contest a week prior to its start I will come and collect you myself.'

Shanks only grinned at his anger.

'Oh come on Mr Current Champion, why do you want me there so badly? That's not how you date a girl, especially not the part of threatening her if she decided to dump your pretty ass.'

'As if I was ever a threat to you.'

Shanks grinned mischievously. 'True, it's not like you defeat me when I fight flawlessly.'

Mihawk decided two can play that game. 'It's not like you give me many opportunities either.'

Shanks was quiet now, she had to admit he was right.

'Alright then. See you in three weeks at Alabasta. But now-' And immediately her grin was back and wide. '-BOOZE!'

She pulled him with her to the table she had just been sitting at.

'Deal my friend some chips! And a bottle, too!'

* * *

She smiled down at him, a small dribble of blood running down the left side of her face. When she extended her hand Mihawk took it and struggled to his feet. He was bleeding from several wounds and Shanks hurried to help him tend to them.

She didn't care when the tournament's announcer declared her this year's champion of the Alabasta tournament.

'Can you walk?' There was nothing of her usual cheerfulness in her voice.

'I'm alright, no need to further humiliate me.'

Shanks was taken aback at his words. He always called her a child yet he was acting like one More often than not.

'You were the one insisting that I come. I would have stayed away; I don't care about all this like you do. Winning this here means nothing to me.' She looked around. The people in the stadium were cheering. Cheering for her? She doubted there was any honesty in that. Within the hour she would be back to being a pirate captain in their eyes. One they feared because they were told to. The fake happiness all around her made her sick.

She turned back to her friend.

'This is the last time I'll compete. It's not a game or a sport for me. I fight to live.'

* * *

Mihawk often thought back to these words. She had been true to them. She had never competed as a swordsman although Shanks had remained better than him.

Now it was time. The final match would begin soon.

So far he had annihilated the competition in the past seven grand tournaments of the year. Up until today no one had ever won all eight of them. Winning this one would guarantee him a spot in the history books.

The opponent he was about to face was capable but lacked refinement. He was focusing on force rather than technique and tactics. How he had gotten this far into the competition was beyond Mihawk. He expected it to be over soon though.

He entered the arena, people cheering violently. He ignored them, focused on his opponent that let the crowd celebrate him. Eventually the brute grew bored of it and turned towards Mihawk. The man had no fear in his eyes and Hawkeye grew excited by that. It might not be over as quickly as he had thought. There was spirit to be found.

They stood ready in the middle on the arena and took their stance. It would be a row of three matches, not unlike his first encounter with Shanks.

Anger boiled up inside of him like it had so often during this event. It didn't matter if he would win this tournament too. He knew there was someone more advanced out there. But she was beyond fighting for pride. That calmed his anger immediately. She had her reasons to neglect the artsy part of swordsmanship. Her priorities lay with respect and protection.

He felt his right side getting stabbed.

The match had had begun and he had been distracted. Now he was furious at her again. Nothing of this would have happened if she was here. Then he heard it.

'NO! HAWKY!'

Only one person in the world could get away with calling him by this atrocious nickname. So she was here. Great. What a mockery.

He searched for her regardless. There she was, right up in front, standing tall in a field of unconscious people; her work no doubt. She stood still, hands covering the bottom part of her face, silencing her scream.

The rest of the crowd had grown silent again once more. He knew what that meant but he couldn't quite peel his gaze off of her. She yelled again.

'NOW!'

And he swirled around, stepping aside and getting behind his opponent, blade on his throat. He had been practicing this manoeuvre ever since they had first fought and today he had mastered it. For the first time he had gotten the timing just right, had had the patience to wait. Wait... well... it hadn't been him that had given the prompt to move, but her. This was her win, not his. He glared at her. How dared she stealing this victory from him?

He could easily see she didn't get why he was upset, but it didn't matter right now, they could fight later.

Now he had to win this next match. His way.

He eyed his opponent, his face serious. The match began and the referee had hardly time to get out of the way when Mihawk had already engaged in ferocious slashing and dodging. The normal eye had trouble to follow his movements. At the beginning his opponent held up well, obviously hoping Mihawk would tire eventually or that the wound would give him trouble. But neither happened, so the match was over within less than half an hour when Mihawk sliced the man's shoulder.

First the audience was dead silent. But then. Some seconds later it had settled in their minds as to what had just happened. There was a champion. One as never seen before, unrivalled, unbeatable. The best.

Mihawk looked around, his mind slowly catching up. His gaze shifted from the audience to Shanks who was cheering just like everyone else, no, probably even more so. Not even the slightest sting to her pride. Sighing Mihawk shook his head in defeat. They really were very different no matter how much he tried to forget about it.

Right now however he felt humiliated by her. They both knew she was better yet she celebrated him like a champion. Just like everyone else.

The curator of the games came towards him, another big trophy in his arms. But this time a whole dozen people followed after him, every single one of them looking like being of importance.

'Dracule Mihawk, I am astounded! Such finesse, such strength, such dexterity! A true feast to the eye!'

And people said he was the creepy one. Well Shanks really only ever called him creepy. No one else dared to.

'You are the eighth champion of the year this much you know. But since you are the first to conquer all eight Surpreme Tournaments in the same year there is more.'

More? Like some extra prize money? He wouldn't mind. Although he would have to take care that the red head didn't buy booze with his money again. Else there wouldn't be much left.

'Since you downright dominated every competition we bestow upon you a title that has never been given before. At least not officially.' He turned around to face the audience.

'My dear people! You bear witness to an event of a lifetime. An event, unseen before, unheard of, never to repeat! I present to you The World's Greatest Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk!'

His insides dropped half a meter. Had he really succeeded? This young too? But it wasn't right!

This was a bitter victory. He would lose this title the next time he fought his rival. But not fighting her wasn't an option either. It was just too tempting to have a worthy opponent around and not make use of her.

His eyes searched for Shanks again in the uproaring crowd.

Hell no, was she wiping a tear? And grinning like a madwoman? She really didn't get the cruelty of the moment. Maybe he would explain it to her, maybe.

But now he would have to play the happy victor and hurry to get out of here.

* * *

Shanks waited right outside of the dressing rooms, a crowd of unconscious journalists and fangirls around her.

'Your work, I assume?' Shanks could be really scary if she tried. Why had she done that?

'Jupp, want you all for myself, you know!' Yes, really scary. 'Joking, now let's celebrate! You did it! You reached your goal! I'll even drink your fancy wine tonight in your honour!'

Mihawk had to admit, that he wanted to see.

* * *

Shanks was mystified.

Yes, Mihawk wasn't a party person but this total lack of happiness was disturbing. And intriguing. She had ignored it so far, but the night was getting late and she wanted to know why he was acting so strangely before he could slip away with some woman.

'So, Mr. Partypooper, what is wrong? The wine's good, after tonight dozens of woman will beg for a night with the living legend and, hello, you reached the goal of your life! Yet you sit around here acting like this is just another boring night! Already having a midlife crisis?'

His glare just shoot up into her eyes, yet she didn't waver.

'What? You think you are so scary... seriously though, what is wrong? This should be the best night of your life!'

He looked down. Gotcha! He would talk. He always would, sooner or later. Usually later though. Good thing she was that persistent. Or maybe that was the reason for it.

'We both know I am not the greatest.'

Oh, that. Well, simple truth. Yes. Except...

'You will eventually, so what does it matter! You are progressing further with each day. I am not. One day I'll have children and then I will be nowhere close to your abilities. That's how nature planned it.'

'You do know that having children requires a boyfriend?'

Now she was the one to glare. He always did this. Stupid man! How many more hints can a girl drop?

'There are plenty of men in my life.'

'None of which consider you a woman.'

Ouch, that hurt. Seriously, why did she bother? Insensitive bastard...

Maybe this really was the problem though. With him. Maybe she had become some genderless object to him.

'You are mean when you are pissed, you know that? What do you want me to do? Pretend like I'm not as good as you? I know you would never forgive me for that! So stop taking your frustration out on me...'

Mihawk sighed, she was right. Annoyingly often too.

'I'm sorry, Shanks. Sit back down, okay? I just won't use that title until I am better then you.'

Shanks complied and smiled. He was growing up after all.


End file.
